4

“That's right, Sofia,” I muttered. “Drown your sorrows in food like you always fucking do.”

I rolled my eyes angrily, tears spilling down my cheeks as I continued to shove the slices down my throat. I wasn’t even hungry, but I was just forcing myself to eat, wishing that I could find comfort in something since my husband couldn’t fucking provide that for me.

“Sofia, have you left my food out?” came a voice. “Bitch better not be asleep.”

I jolted upwards, shocked that he was at home. I felt my heart hammer against my chest, suddenly burning with nerves. I was still in the underwear from earlier. I quickly put the cake to the side, wiping the crumbs and tears from my face quickly, trying to stop myself from looking like a damn mess.

As pissed off as I was at Bruce, I wanted to fix things with him. Make things go back to the way they were.

I quickly straightened myself out, composing myself together, ready to seduce him the best I could. Trying to push my upset and miserable emotions to the back of my head, and focus on the here and now.

I'd bought such an expensive piece of lingerie for him…

I just hoped that he would appreciate it.

Bruce walked into the kitchen, and I let out a sigh that I didn’t know I was holding. Bruce was a tall man, with black hair, a rough, stubbly beard, and pale skin. He rubbed his chin in thought, as he scanned the room, avoiding looking at me. I felt stung, not expecting him to still be so angry and pissed off even after seeing me like this.

“Why are you in the kitchen in just your fucking underwear?” Bruce spat bitterly.

I could feel my chest heave upwards and downwards. I tried my best to rectify the situation.

“I wanted to surprise you,” I admitted sheepishly.

“What's for dinner?” Bruce asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It's me,” I said confidently. “I'm the dinner.”

Bruce took a step away from me, looking repulsed by the very idea. I could feel my heart leap to my throat. I bit my lip in an attempt to stop tears spilling down my cheeks. I couldn’t let Bruce see me upset.

“Stop fucking embarrassing yourself, Sofia,” Bruce sneered, rolling his eyes.

“Don't you like it?” I mumbled. “I bought this for you.”

I took steps closer to him, trying to touch his arm, but he shrugged me off.

“I mean, it's nice,” Bruce shrugged, “but it's not really you, is it?”

I jolted backwards, furrowing my eyebrows.

“What's that supposed to mean?” I croaked.

“Have you been reading your pathetic erotic novels again?” Bruce snarled.

“What?” I breathed.

“Real life isn't a fucking fairy tale, Sofia,” Bruce spat bitterly. “I came home from a long day at work, expecting my wife to have food ready for me. Instead, she's standing butt naked in the kitchen, like sex is the only thing she has to goddamn offer!”

I clapped my hands to my face, mortified. He bickered at me relentlessly, and I could feel my insides twist into knots, as my eyes welled with embarrassment. I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Judging by how your fucking body looks right now, it's no wonder you never leave me any fucking food,” Bruce hissed. “It's clearly all going to your own fucking belly.”

This time, I couldn’t hold back my sobs. I was so upset, that I could physically feel myself hurting. Each and every one of his words stinging me like a fucking bitch. It was like somebody had shot one million daggers straight in my chest, and was twisting them. My husband was the only man who saw me naked, and called me fat. Making me feel utterly and completely worthless.

“Fucking women!” Bruce shouted, as he watched me bolt out of the room. 

I ran to the bathroom, feeling fucking humiliated.

This was the last way that I expected him to fucking react.

I thought that he would appreciate me…

Appreciate the effort I made.

But he just made me feel like fucking shit.

My vision went hazy, as it continued to cloud with tears. I took steps towards the bathroom mirror, my heart feeling heavy.